


Can we go to France?

by AngelofGallifrey



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, KickTheStickz - Freeform, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1363975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofGallifrey/pseuds/AngelofGallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PJ wants to go to France. It's three in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can we go to France?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN PJ OR CHRIS (sadly). Any references to their videos are sole property of KickthePJ and/or crabstickz.
> 
> NO PROFIT IS CLAIMED FROM WRITING THIS.
> 
> Oh, and yes, I know kickthestickz isn't real, but it's all for fun. =)

"France." 

"Hm?" 

"I want to go to France."

"What?"

"France, Chris. I want to go to France." 

Chris looked up at his boyfriend, eyes blurred with fatigue and hair sleep-mussed, making him look rather like a very grumpy, sleepy scarecrow. Looking over at the clock on their bedroom wall, he was horrified to see, after his vision had focussed, that the time was nearing three o' clock in the morning. He knew he should be used to PJ's night-time musings by now, but it still caused him no end of irritation whenever the other man awoke him at ungodly hours such as this. With a self-suffering sigh, he rolled over onto his side so that he was facing the other man, who was sitting propped up against the headboard, one of his many notebooks in his hands, scribbling something down frantically with a stump of lead he had found at the bottom of his old school pencil case. His curly hair was dishevelled as he ran his fingers through it in thought. When Chris craned his neck to have a look at what he was doing, he managed to catch a brief glimpse of the roughly pencilled in shape of a hand before PJ turned the page away, a faint blush painting his cheekbones. Chris couldn't help a smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the sight, particularly when the other man began to chew on his lip thoughtfully, turning it a deep red colour. 

"Why do you want to go to France, Peej?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice. 

PJ shrugged. "No particular reason. I just want to go. Can we go to France, Chris?" 

Chris chuckled at the almost childlike question, and scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand to rid them of sleep he said, "You don't have to ask me. Yes, we can go to France if you really want to. But you're going to be doing all the speaking." 

"That's not fair!"

"Peej, the only French I know is 'Bonjour' and 'Je voudrais une bière'." 

"And we both know that those are the only phrases you need to know when visiting France. It's not like you're going to be doing much else."

"True...but you're still going to have to save me from those guys with the surveys under the Eiffel Tower. I swear one of them was asking me for my virginity last time." 

PJ laughed, a loud, clear and genuine laugh that he only ever used when he was with Chris, and Chris felt warmth bloom in his chest at the sound.

"Fine, fine. Alright. Yes, we can go to France." 

"Great. I'll book tickets tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow? Wait, slow down! We've both got schedules to stick to. When are we going? Where are we going? How much is it going to cost? Have you even thought about the little details, Peej?" 

PJ rolled his eyes and made a sound that reminded Chris of a very grumpy teenager being asked to do something he really doesn't want to do.

"Chris, don't be boring. You're not a boring person. So stop being so boring." 

Chris laughed at this, managing to prop himself up on his elbows and shuffling up into a sitting position, ignoring his protesting muscles and nagging sleepiness. 

"Right, sorry. I'll stop being boring. But seriously, where do you want to go? Remember...we are only humble YouTubers, so please try to keep it reasonable." 

"Paris."

"Of course. Paris. For how long?" 

PJ shrugged, making Chris laugh yet again. "Christ, Peej, you really are something." 

PJ gave him a sideways look and winked, saying, "You know it." 

"Stop turning everything I say dirty. That's my job." 

"Yes sir." 

A comfortable silence ensued, filled only by the rustling of the duvet as PJ abandoned his notebook and snuggled up close to Chris, who wrapped his arms tightly around his waist and kissed the back of his neck before finally settling down to sleep.

"Hey Peej."

"Hm?"

"Seems like you're going to have to protect me from those virginity-stealing buggers under the Eiffel Tower after all." 

*** 

They ended up in France the following week, as it was September and there were very few tourists about. They rented out an apartment on the outskirts of the city for three days, because even PJ had to admit that any longer would be pushing their budget just a little, and spent the majority of their time in the heart of the city, visiting the Eiffel Tower (a very stressful period for Chris, who was attacked by multiple people with surveys throughout the day), eating in as many of the city's most picturesque restaurants as they could, and visiting as many bars as they could to allow Chris to try out a little French, much to Chris' chagrin and much to PJ's amusement. Chris even plucked up the courage to try some frogs' legs and snails whilst they were out one evening, concluding that they really were vile and proceeding to hurry to the toilet to 'scrub his tongue with a bar of soap' amidst hysterical laughter on PJ's part and several disapproving looks from the restaurant's French customers and waiters. 

It was not until the very last night of the trip that the two of them found themselves sitting on the side of one of the Fontaines de la Concorde, the stars glittering above them, scarves wrapped tightly about their necks, their breath dancing before their lips and mingling together like wraiths, ever so slightly tipsy and giggling at nothing in particular. 

It all happened too fast for either of them to process what was going on, but all of a sudden PJ was on one knee, his notebook held out before him, his nose slightly red with the cold and his bright green eyes wide and imploring and Chris suddenly realised what was happening. He could do nothing but clap a hand over his mouth in complete and utter shock, and when PJ nudged the notebook towards him he found that he didn't know what to do but take it and flick through it with shaking fingers until he reached the final, most recent drawing, and subconsciously he realised that he recognised it.

It was a hand, pencilled and shaded so exquisitely by PJ's delicate artist's fingers that it could have been a photograph. Upon the ring finger was a simple band, polished and shining, even though it existed only in PJ's make-believe world of paper and pencils. He wasn't sure if he heard PJ say the words, but he felt his own lips forming the reply before he even knew what he was supposed to say, and all of a sudden he was being swept up into the tightest and most wonderful embrace he and PJ had ever shared, and he was clutching the notebook like it was his lifeline and then they were laughing and kissing and laughing again and then they were dancing and they might have fallen in the Fontaine de la Concorde but neither of them cared because they were in Paris and it was autumn and they were engaged and they were together.

Because in truth, that was all that really mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for this...it is my first ever fanfic. I'm a bit nervous, and it was probably a bit rubbish, but please tell me what you think! =)


End file.
